Going my way?

I walk out of my hotel room and see an attractive girl in the hall. I walk towards her to check her out then get on the elevator. I realize I didn’t need to take the elevator and get off. But now I am on the wrong floor. There is a railing ahead of me with a view of the interior courtyard below. But instead of plants and skylights, it looks more like a church. I get back on the elevator and go back to my floor. Across from my room is some kind of club or bar with hot chicks either hanging out or working there.
I am carrying a cardboard box down a wide street or parking lot. Two women in a convertible pull up right behind me and slow down instead of just going around. So to teach them a lesson, I fall down and pretend that they ran over my foot. They don’t even stop, they just pull into a parking space at the front entrance of a building that looks like a shopping mall without stores. I’m pissed, so I go to my car to leave. I stick my hand into my pocket and realize I don’t have my keys. I’m also not carrying the box anymore. I walk over to my car to see if I left the keys inside and it isn’t parked where I left it. I look around and see the two women laughing. One of them says that they have the title to my car and the other is waving the envelope from my glove box that has my insurance and registration in it. I storm up to them and demand to know what they did to my car. One of the women is older and unattractive, but the other is in her late-thirties and looks pretty good. She says something about how she’ll tell me if I go home with her.

Fair but not good

On a road trip with Brooke. We stop at a rest area or small town. We walk in expecting a dump, but the place is gorgeous. It seems to be some kind of museum. We decide to visit, but the place is deserted. We call out and look around the lobby, but don’t find any info. Then I look around the corner and Terry from ThompsonMurray is sitting at a table playing cards alone. But he is in a wheelchair. I ask about admission and he makes a joke about paying a huge amount to him directly.

In my Blazer or some other old truck with Dave. I believe his sons and Mike Boros are also there. Everyone piles into the back of the truck and one of the guys asks twice to put some kind of divider or seat down. We’re on a dusty, dirt road and check in to a dive motel. Our room is big though. We go to a carnival in the parking lot across the street. There is a Ferris wheel and all the lights on the midway. We go into a cafeteria looking building to get something to eat. George Lamb pulls a bag of spaghetti out his bag or coat and dumps it onto a paper plate. Everyone else buys some fair food. Then I’m back in the hotel room taking a shit, except I am standing in the living room. Someone starts to come in, so I go into the bathroom. I drop my pants and discover that I have shit my pants. My boxers are covered. I start to scrap the shit off with a wad of toilet paper. It is full of red and yellow peppers and has the consistency of paste or chili. I don’t notice any smell. But there is no way I am going to be able to clean all the mess up.